


mono no aware

by Tayani



Series: ShuAke Confidant Week [3]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Feels, M/M, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-10 00:36:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16460105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tayani/pseuds/Tayani
Summary: ShuAke Confidant Week Day 3 – neglect / rejection / deathSome things are not meant to last; but that's what makes them beautiful.





	mono no aware

 

  _"...you know, Akira?"_

_It was November._

_Akira still wasn't sure just how and why he had agreed to this. Perhaps, it was a ridiculous, hopeless bid for one last day; one last goodbye. Perhaps, he simply liked to pretend that things were different. Perhaps, in this quiet afternoon, as they walked through Yoyogi park hand in hand, it was just too easy to believe in the beautiful lie they both wove between themselves, wrapping themselves in it like in a cocoon of warmth._

_Goro turned to him with a smile. With warm, afternoon sun illuminating him and colourful leaves falling around him, he looked like an angel. His elegant hand - the one that wasn't holding Akira's own - moved up, snatching one, russet leaf on its way to the ground._

_"...some things are not meant to last." Goro said quietly, smiling down at the leaf. "That's what makes them beautiful."_

It hurt; hurt to watch as the man he still remembered for his smiles and soft, quiet chuckles yell and break down in front of them, screaming out all of the pain, frustration and neglect that has been crushing him for most of his life.

Some things Goro had said were not news to Akira; others were, and doubly painful for the fact. Though among his friends, the raven felt he had never been more alone; as the only other person there for him, the only one who truly, deeply understood him screamed and lashed out, attacking them, being attacked and hurt by them. Akira couldn’t bring himself to land a hit. He pretended to strategize; pretended, with tears spilling beneath his mask, that the best option for him would be to focus on healing and strengthening his allies.

He allowed them to do the job for him; watched them as they showered Goro with attacks, all of which were unflinchingly aiming to break through all of his defences.

He was such a coward, right until the end.

 

_“You’re doing it wrong.”_

_Akira laughed; it was hot and humid after the deluge that fell over Tokyo in the morning; but now, their umbrellas were folded up neatly as the two of them stood together, hunched towards one another – Akira with a look of amusement on his face, Goro with one of slightly annoyed concentration._

_They have bumped into one another on the station and decided to take a walk down Shibuya’s central street; and after a moment, Goro had inquired whether Akira could show him what he has been busy with right before they bumped into one another. With raised eyebrows, Akira produced a kendama then; and Goro has been getting more and more frustrated at his own inability to master it ever since._

_It has already been fifteen minutes, and Akira was trying not to laugh._

_“I am most certainly_ not _doing this wrong. Your toy must be broken.”_

_“You’re only using your arm; it goes from the knees, see? Watch me. Like this.”_

_The red ball landed with perfect ease on the side of the toy in Akira’s hand. Goro blinked at it with a frown._

_“…I see.”_

_“You can keep it, if you want to.” Akira offered the toy back to Goro, and watched him as his eyes widened; like these of a child. “I’ll get myself a new one on the festival today.”_

_“Ah… the festival.”_

_“Aren’t you coming?”_

_“Oh… I wouldn’t want to intrude. Then again…” Goro smiled lightly, looking up at Akira. “One should find time to celebrate fleeting pleasures of one’s life, no?”_

It hurt.

Goro’s silhouette, crumpled on the floor; his voice, soft and resigned, so different from the raw screams of before. Even now, he was looking down; even with his mask broken, with his eyes visible once more, Akira could only see them stare at the ground.

They were both cowards, then.

He supposed he had always known that.

As the rest of the Phantom Thieves tried to get Goro back; to convince him to join forces with them again; Akira opened his mouth, too, but the words never left his lips. What was he supposed to say..? That he was welcome to come back? Was he ever a part of their group to begin with..? He, who wanted to use them; they, who wanted to use him.

And he had allowed this. Even knowing so much more – knowing, or at least suspecting there was so much more to Goro than just what they found out about him in the end – Akira had allowed their plans to proceed.

He had never given the boy before him a chance to be trusted.

For someone who found it so easy to tell Goro he loved him, he truly never kept true to his words, now did he?

Russet eyes rising up; watching him, finally, challenging him to break his silence. All of a sudden, Akira felt like it was just the two of them once more; him, reaching out his hand mutely; Goro looking away from him, a sad smile shining through the jagged edges of his mask.

In the end, he didn’t speak out; and his silent plea has been rejected.

In the end, he failed him once more.

 

_“I love you, Goro.”_

_It was nothing but a breathy whisper; words coming out unbidden, taking both of them by surprise. Goro’s lips slowly moved away from Akira’s own; and his eyes…_

_…his eyes were a whirlpool of emotion. Soft, sad, understanding and yet with hard shards sticking out in the back, guarding his thoughts even in the moment of privacy they managed to steal away in Leblanc’s attic._

_A tender hand brushing down his cheek; Akira’s head tilted to lean into the touch, but it was gone the next moment, fleeting like the wind; or a kiss._

_“I am not entirely certain you are fully aware of the weight your words have, Akira.” he had said quietly. “Still… thank you. I will treasure them, anyway.”_

The nightmarish puppet appeared; and for a brief moment, Akira didn’t understand why his friends mistook it for Akechi. One looked nothing like the other, after all; not with these dead eyes, with that demure look.

Akira watched Goro drag himself up on his feet; watched the shadows appear. Heard the puppet’s offer, to have someone volunteer to take the other’s place, and felt the hands of his friends holding him back as he lunged forward, the feeling of dread swelling in his chest.

He saw Goro look at him then; eyes wide and surprised and _soft,_ so infinitely soft, with no more masks to hide his true feelings behind.

“ _Shoot them_.” the puppet ordered, and Akira didn’t as much as flinch when Goro raised his gun. He didn’t need words to understand his true intentions; he didn’t need words to scream at Goro not to, to try and stop him as he struggled in his friends’ strong hold.

“…I wanted to say it back, you know.” Goro whispered, and Akira’s breath quickened; he had found his voice now, though he wasn’t aware what was he screaming through the sound of blood pounding in his ears. He saw Goro smile; and then turn quickly.

Two shots fired; the puppet hunched over in pain, and the heavy, iron curtain fell in between them, separating Akira from Goro’s peaceful smile and soft, sad eyes. He heard, somehow, Goro’s last request; somehow, he managed to make the promise.

Two shots fired; and then, there was only silence.

 

 _Some things are not meant to last,_ Goro had said, on one warm, autumn afternoon.

_But that’s what makes them beautiful._

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my stories, you can find me on twitter [@mikan_writings](https://twitter.com/mikan_writings) and/or tumblr at [mikan_writings](https://mikan-writings.tumblr.com/)!


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